


I've Been Funny, I've Been Cool With The Lines

by nerdwegian



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve needs to use his words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1551293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdwegian/pseuds/nerdwegian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's not jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Been Funny, I've Been Cool With The Lines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zolac_no_Miko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zolac_no_Miko/gifts).



> THIS IS THE MOST DELAYED BIRTHDAY FIC OF ALL TIME.
> 
> ...or maybe the world's EARLIEST birthday fic of all time? Yes. HAPPY BIRTHDAY (NEXT YEAR) ANGELA!
> 
> Thanks to [roguewrld](http://roguewrld.tumblr.com/) for the speedy beta! <3 Also thanks to torakowalski for untangling this fic in probably fifty-seven different places. At least.
> 
> EDIT: Translation to Chinese by [flowerend](http://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerend/pseuds/flowerend) can be found [here](http://ohayofang.lofter.com/post/328d61_12d5352)! :D

Steve's not jealous.

Steve doesn't _get_ jealous, okay? Not since the fondue thing with Peggy, and that was what, like seventy years ago, now? Steve's too old to get jealous anymore.

So what if Bucky is secretly sleeping with Clint?

"Hey," Bucky says, shuffling into the room and slouching down on the couch next to Steve. "Can't sleep?"

"Nah," Steve says, eyes glued to the TV and absolutely not admitting to having waited up for Bucky. He tries to resist the temptation to ask, because he knows, after all, but it slips out anyway. "Where have you been?"

"I was over at Clint's," Bucky says, frowning at the TV. "What are we watching?"

Steve blinks. He doesn't actually know. The last time he can recall having actually paid any attention to the TV rather than to the clock, _Kitchen Nightmares_ was on. Now, it's past two a.m. and apparently there's--something with seals? Steve frowns. What channel is this? "Nature show," Steve says, because that seems like a safe answer.

Bucky just grunts in response, and doesn't make any indication that he's planning on leaving the couch anytime soon. They sit in silence for a while, and Steve tries to stealthily look at Bucky out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't look any different than when he left. He doesn't smell like sex, or freshly showered. There are no hickeys that Steve can see, though Bucky's hair is concealing most of his neck still. There could be hickeys.

Steve grits his teeth. He hopes there are no hickeys.

"You've been over at Clint's a lot lately," Steve says, going for innocent and only half succeeding.

"I'm going to bed," Bucky says, abruptly standing up as he clearly changes his mind about staying. He doesn't sound angry, at least. "Night, Steve."

Steve waits until the door to Bucky's room is closed behind him, before sighing. "Night, buddy."

*

The next week, Bucky doesn't come home at all, one night. Steve lies in bed and stares at the ceiling and pretends he's not worried. Pretends he's not jealous. He doesn't sleep one wink that night, and when Bucky comes home in the early morning hours, something tentatively happy on his face, Steve just smiles and thinks, _At least he looks happy._ That's all he wants for Bucky, really.

*

"You know, you could just tell him how you feel," Sam says helpfully, two days later, when he's lazily passing a football back and forth with Steve.

"What good will that do?" Steve says, shaking his head. "He's with Clint. That would just be kind of..."

"You never know," says Sam. He shrugs. "Could be just sex. Crazy hot, athletic superhero sex, but still." A jogger stumbles as he goes by, and Sam side-eyes him. "What?"

"Even if it is just," Steve lowers his voice a little for a moment, "sex, I don't have any claim to him," he says. "He's not a-- _prize_ for me to win, Sam, he's a human being."

"Okay," Sam says, holding onto the ball for a moment, "first of all, let's pretend you didn't actually suggest that I, of all people, would forget that. And secondly, confession is good for the soul."

"Why do you think I'm talking to you?" Steve says, smirking.

Sam rolls his eyes so hard the white in his eyes are visible even to where Steve is standing. "Because your little superfriends would rat you out so fast your head would spin."

Steve chuckles. "They're a nosy bunch, what can I say?"

"And you wonder why I won't move into the Tower," Sam chides.

"It's a nice place," Steve says.

Sam points at Steve. "Tell you what, I'll make you a deal, okay? I'll move into the Tower when you and Bucky do."

Steve resists the urge to make a face, because he likes living with only Bucky. He likes having that, their little apartment, for just them. But Bucky already spends a lot of time at Clint's place in the Tower, and Steve gets a vague sense of inevitability. So he smiles at Sam and nods. "Deal."

*

"Please tell me you're almost here," are the first words out of Tony's mouth when Steve picks up the phone.

"I am," Steve confirms, frowning as he approaches the main Tower entrance. "Why?"

"Because you gotta see this!" Tony says, giddy like a child. "We're at the range!" And then he promptly hangs up on Steve.

Puzzled, Steve takes the elevator to the shooting range Tony's set up in the basement, and finds almost everyone already there, lined up on the viewing balcony. "Hey," Steve says. "What's going on?"

"Your boy is about to break Clint's record, is what!" Tony blurts out, practically vibrating with excitement.

"My--?" Steve's eyebrows go up. "Bucky?"

Two long strides takes him to the window, and he looks down at the range. Sure enough, there's Bucky, making his way through one of the many obstacle course scenarios Tony's set up, metal arm gleaming under the spotlights. He's carrying one of Tony's training guns in each hand, and disposing of targets left and right with a terrifying speed and deadly accuracy.

Steve's jaw drops, he can't help it. "How--?" he starts, then has to try again. "How did you guys--how did this happen?"

He's been trying to get Bucky on the shooting range-- _any_ shooting range--for months now, with no luck. Bad associations, Bucky says. Apparently he's found a way to deal with it.

"Clint talked him into it," Natasha says, a vague smile on her face. "Though if Bucky beats his record, I think he's gonna end up regretting it."

"He's not gonna beat the record," Bruce mumbles from next to Natasha. "He'll need to hit every single remaining target to do it."

"He could do it," Rhodey says.

"You just want someone to take Clint down a peg or two," Tony says, smirking, before leaning over to look at Steve. "Rhodey's butthurt that despite his best efforts, he can't touch Clint's scores."

"Shut up," Rhodey says, looking disgusted.

"Where is Clint, anyway?" Steve asks, looking around.

Thor chuckles, a deep rumble from his chest, and gestures with Mjolnir. "I believe he preferred a different vantage point."

Steve follows the direction where Mjolnir is pointing, and finds Clint sitting in the rafters above the range, a big grin on his face.

On the track below, Bucky completes the course, vaulting over the last obstacle and landing hard on both feet. For a moment, everyone's frozen, and Steve thinks at least half of them are actually holding their breaths.

"Nine hundred and eighty eight, Sergeant Barnes," JARVIS says, and everyone lets out a chorus of groans except Clint. They can't hear it, but they can all see how Clint whoops in the rafters, both arms raised above his head in victory. He crosses four beams, and then drops straight down, landing as if the drop was nothing, right next to Bucky. Bucky doesn't even seem startled, and something in the pit of Steve's stomach just _clenches_.

Tony pushes the button for the speaker system, and says, "Whatever, he'll get you once he gets back into the swing of things."

"Nine ninety-four and still the reigning champion!" Clint crows, throwing one arm around Bucky and shaking him lightly.

Bucky smiles, tentative, but crooked, and looks down at the guns in his hands, hair partially obscuring his face. "One day I'll make it an even thousand," he says.

"I'm not even sure that's physically possible," Tony says. "I mean, if Clint can't do it..."

He launches into a speech about the parameters he's fed into JARVIS, and how the system is designed to adapt and get exponentially harder the better you are, but Steve isn't listening anymore. He can't take his eyes off Bucky. The slight smile. The way he didn't flinch when Clint dropped down and the way he's not flinching now, with Clint's arm around his shoulders.

"Hey, Steve," Bucky says. Steve blinks, startled, suddenly realizing Bucky's looking right at him. "I didn't realize you were here yet."

"Got here a little early," Steve says, forcing an attempt at casual. "Nice shooting."

Bucky looks away for a second. "Thanks."

Steve wants to ask what Clint said to him to convince him to go. He wants to ask how Bucky's doing. He wants to ask what Bucky was seeing as targets popped out at him.

"Ready for lunch?" is what he actually says.

Bucky looks down at the guns in his hands again, and then hands them over to Clint, before turning his smile back at Steve. "Sure."

*

"Hey," Steve says, when he hears the front door open and close. "Just in time. I'm finishing up dinner. You hungry, or did you eat with Clint?"

He puts down his spatula and turns to see Bucky walk into the kitchen--and then stops, surprised.

"Yeah, heh," Bucky says, grinning a little awkwardly and leaning on the door frame. "I guess it was time."

Running his hand over his newly cut hair Bucky hunches his shoulders up for a moment, just a little, and then shoves both hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

Steve's speechless. Bucky's hair is stylish and modern, deliberately messy, and he's got his metal arm hidden under his hoodie. It's the most he's looked like Bucky-- _Steve's_ Bucky--since Steve got him back, and a lump is forming in Steve's throat.

His silence must make Bucky insecure, because he tentatively meets Steve's eyes and runs his hand through his hair again, ruffling it. "Clint says it looks good?" he says, ducking his head a little before smiling carefully.

It's the most open grin Steve's seen on his face since--well, since everything, and it makes something inside of Steve _ache_.

"It does," he assures Bucky. "It looks--it's great, Buck. Suits you."

Bucky's grin grows then, and he pushes off the doorframe. "Oh, good," he says, sounding relieved. "Half the time I think Clint's fucking with me."

Steve nearly chokes on his own spit and refrains from making a comment. "I, uh--I--you can grab a bowl, dinner's ready," he eventually settles on, gesturing to the stovetop, where the chili is puttering happily. "There's cornbread in the bread bin."

"Awesome, I'm starving," Bucky says, turning sideways to get past Steve.

For a split second, his chest brushes against Steve's back, and there's a pang of wistfulness going through Steve that makes him want to turn and grab Bucky and just--hold on. But then Bucky's opening cupboards and pulling down plates, and Steve watches him in amazement. It's as if some of the weight Bucky's carrying around disappeared with his ratty hair, and Steve’s glad to see it.

As much as he hates to admit it, Clint seems to be good for Bucky.

*

"Do you think I should talk to him?" Steve asks Sam over burgers the next day.

Sam barely glances up from his meal. "Talk to who about what?"

"Clint," Steve clarifies. "About Bucky."

Sam freezes for a moment, then looks at Steve and puts down his burger. "I'm gonna need beer for this."

Steve rolls his eyes, but still waits patiently until Sam has gotten his beer and taken a long pull of the bottle.

"Okay," Sam eventually says, putting down the bottle. "The relationship therapist is in."

"It's not--we're not in a _relationship_ ," Steve says, face heating.

"Well, you are, but maybe not the kind of relationship you want it to be," Sam says pointedly. "So. I still subscribe to the _Tell Him How You Feel_ school of thought, because this is clearly bothering you, and I think getting it off your chest would be good for you--"

"But he's--"

"--even if he rejects you," Sam says, holding up a hand to halt Steve's objection before he can fully voice it. "Let's be real, do you seriously think it would make things weird between you guys?"

Steve rubs his neck and picks at his burger. He's not that hungry anymore. "I don't know." Then he thinks about it. "No. Probably not."

"Exactly," Sam agrees. "If the whole, trying to kill you while brainwashed by evil nazis didn't make things weird, you having the hots for your BFF is sure as hell not gonna change it, either."

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head. "You know, Sam, sometimes you're just..."

"I know," Sam says, taking another swig of his beer. "It's part of my charm. Anyway, even if your boy rejects you, at least then it's out there and you can start healing. Moving on, y'know?"

Steve considers Sam's words. The idea of ever being perfectly okay with Bucky and Clint's relationship seems alien to him. But still--it's Bucky. Steve feels like he should make the effort. Thinks that for Bucky, he'll do anything.

"I don't know why everyone keeps calling him my boy," Steve grumbles instead of commenting on Sam's suggestions. "He's not _my_ boy. He's not my anything."

Sam snorts and picks up his burger again. "Sure, he's not."

*

The Bucky and Clint thing has been going on for almost two months when Bucky very intentionally doesn't look at Steve over breakfast and stabs his pancakes with a little more force than necessary. "So, I was thinking," he says, sounding completely casual, and Steve is instantly suspicious.

"About?"

Bucky drags pieces of pancakes through the syrup without eating them. "About Stark's offer. To move into the Tower."

"Offer," Steve huffs, "more like incessant nagging." But then his brain processes Bucky's words and his fingers slip a little around his juice glass. "Oh."

Bucky's still not looking at him.

"Any--any particular reason?" Steve asks, and tries not to think about Clint's quarters at the top floor of the Tower.

Bucky shrugs a little and finally looks at Steve then, mouth quirking up in a smile. "Figured it's time," he says. "I feel--it feels right. And I like, y'know--I like the guys. They're nice."

Steve wonders if the others know about Bucky and Clint.

"Is this about Clint?" he asks.

Bucky frowns at Steve. "Clint?"

Steve swallows and considers his next words carefully, because Bucky's technically never admitted to sleeping with Clint, and Steve isn't sure if it's still meant to be secret or not. "What does your therapist say?" Steve eventually settles on, because changing gears seems to be the safest option.

Bucky shrugs a little. "I dunno, he's been trying to get me to socialize more for months, whatever that means."

Fondness surges in Steve then and he thinks about Bucky walking next to him, hands shoved in his pockets. He thinks about Bucky making faces at the TV whenever anything related to space is on ("the world went and changed enough on us as it is, Steve, let me process the planet we're living on before I start trying to wrap my head around other ones, okay?"), and how Bucky's shoulders are a little lower, his face is a little more open, when he comes home from Clint's.

"Sure," Steve says. "We can move. If you want."

Bucky's smile grows, and it makes Steve flush all over. He kind of wishes his juice glass was big enough for him to hide his entire face in. He fakes a cough and uses a napkin as cover instead.

*

Tony sounds like he might actually cry with joy when Steve tells him.

Steve gets moving boxes and plans the move and maybe, just maybe, starts avoiding Bucky a little. Just a little, and it's entirely out of self-preservation, because Bucky's little smile has started to make a regular appearance on his face. It's making Steve have _feelings_.

"I'm not playing therapist if you're not gonna take any of my advice," Sam tells him, scowling.

Steve makes a face at him. At least Sam makes good on his promise to move in as well. "You're lucky I like your ass."

"It _is_ a pretty good ass," Steve says, arching an eyebrow and enjoying the way Sam does a double-take.

*

The day they move into the Tower, everyone shows up to help. Steve thinks that's wholly unnecessary, because they don't have _that_ much stuff, and also, he can carry like--seven boxes at a time. Or something. Not that Steve has tried, in order to show off. That would be ridiculous.

"Don't drop them," Natasha warns Clint, as he balances two boxes labeled _Kitchen_ on his shoulders.

"I'm not gonna drop them," Clint says, sounding annoyed. "I can balance fuckin' boxes, Nat."

"Don't call me Nat," she calls after him as he heads to the elevators, where Steve's already waiting for a car.

"Whatever you say, Nat," Clint says cheekily, and then expertly dodges the shoe she throws at him. Steve's not even sure where she got that shoe, it's not hers.

"Hey," Clint says, still chuckling, as he comes to stand next to Steve in front of the elevators.

"Hey," Steve says back, feeling a little awkward. He likes Clint, but right now, all he can think about is how there will only be four floors separating them, and his petulant desire to keep Bucky to himself is warring with the joy of seeing his best friend slowly learn how to be a whole person again. Bucky has made a lot of progress lately. He's smiling more, cracking more jokes, and Steve knows Clint's played a part in that.

An elevator arrives, and Steve and Clint both get in. They're the only ones in the car, and Steve kind of wishes he'd stacked more boxes into his arms, so he could hide behind them.

"Took you guys long enough to make the leap," Clint says as the doors close.

Steve clears his throat. "It had to be the right time for Bucky."

"Hey, no, yeah, I definitely understand that," Clint says, nodding. "We're glad to have you here, Cap."

Steve wonders if _we_ is code for _I_. He clears his throat again. "So, uh, so--I just wanted to say..."

Clint turns his head and looks expectantly at Steve, when he trails off. "Hm?"

Steve tries to articulate everything he's feeling, except in a nicer way than _If you hurt Bucky I will pummel you into the ground_ \--but he's finding it terribly difficult.

"I mean--Bucky's a nice guy," Steve eventually settles on.

"He's okay," Clint says, and he sounds teasing now. It annoys Steve, but he pushes it down.

"Look, I'm trying to--I mean--he's you know, he's been through a lot."

Clint's smile fades off his face then, and he looks Steve dead in the eye. "Believe me, I know," he says, words heavy.

Steve wonders, then, how much Bucky confides in Clint. He doesn't talk that much to Steve, but maybe he talks to Clint--maybe he tells Clint about the nightmares he sometimes wakes from, panicked shouting in strange languages falling from his lips. Maybe he tells Clint about his fractured memories in ways he doesn't do with Steve.

Steve has had Bucky for forever, and now someone else gets to have him too, and it hurts.

"He's a good guy," Steve says. "Best guy I've ever known."

Clint is starting to look vaguely confused. "Yeah," he agrees.

"As long as you, uh," Steve looks away as the elevator comes to a stop and the doors open. "As long as you know that. Just, you know, don't forget that."

Clint's eyebrows have migrated up his forehead. "I'll--definitely keep that in mind?" he says, sounding a little weirded out.

"Okay, good," Steve says as they exit the elevator.

"There you are," Bucky says, looking up from where he's unpacking books and smiling at Steve over his shoulder. "There are like four bedrooms here. Which one do you want?"

*

They spend their first evening in the Tower having beers in Tony's ridiculously large living room, two floors down.

" _So_ close to a full set," Tony says, clinking his bottle to Pepper's and ignoring the look she gives him.

"A full set?" Steve asks.

"Thor and something something Jane Foster, London, whatever, young love," Tony says, waving a hand in Steve's face and turning to Sam. "So, about your wings..."

Sam eyes Tony with distrust. "No."

Tony blinks. "You don't even know what I was gonna say."

"No," Sam repeats, flatly, and Steve laughs.

Steve finishes his beer and then leaves Tony to continue talking at Sam. He walks to the kitchen to dispose of the empty bottle, but comes to an abrupt halt in the doorway.

Bucky and Clint are standing by the fridge, head leaned close, and Clint's got his hand on the back of Bucky's neck, saying something in low tones that Steve doesn't have time to catch. He barely has time to even register the sight, because as soon as they see him they spring apart, Bucky turning his back to the door and scrubbing a hand over his face.

Steve feels like he just got punched in the gut.

"Am I--I didn't mean to interrupt," he says. What's the etiquette for this sort of thing? Is he supposed to acknowledge their relationship, or pretend he still doesn't know?

"Nah, you're fine," Bucky says, turning back towards Steve and giving him a smile that obviously takes effort.

"I'll talk to you later, okay?" Clint says to Bucky. Bucky doesn't really look like he wants Clint to leave, but he does nod, and Clint gives him a tight smile that Steve can't decipher. On his way out he winks at Steve and says, "Night, Cap."

"Night," Steve manages. After Clint's gone, he takes a moment to really look at Bucky. His eyes look a little red. Steve wonders if they had a fight? But no, that's probably not it, because Clint didn't look very concerned when he walked past Steve, and Bucky's eyes aren't red like he's been crying. More like he's just tired, maybe? "You wanna head upstairs, you can," Steve says, offering Bucky a way out.

Bucky nods a little and takes a deep breath. "Yeah. That actually sounds really good. I'm pretty tired." But instead of leaving the room, Bucky pauses in the doorway of the kitchen, and then looks at Steve expectantly. "You coming or you staying here for a while?"

Steve can't hide his surprise, and quickly ditches his empty bottle. "I'm coming with."

In the elevator on the way up, Bucky nudges Steve's shoulder with his own, and when Steve looks at him, Bucky's lips widen into a crooked smile that looks one hundred percent genuine. An amused breath escapes Steve, and he frowns a little, unsure of what Bucky's grinning at, but in the end he doesn't ask. They ride the elevator in comfortable silence, just smiling.

*

Bucky doesn't go to Clint's that night. Or the next night. Or the night after that.

When they've lived in the Tower for just over a week, and Bucky still hasn't spent any significant time with Clint, Steve is starting to think they really did have a fight that night in the kitchen. But Bucky doesn't seem upset, and Clint doesn't seem upset, and Steve wants to ask what's going on but he's trying very hard to mind his own business.

A couple of days later, when he's headed out for his morning jog, he runs into Clint in the elevator and gives him a nod. "Morning."

Clint, who's got his eyes closed and doesn't actually seem to be awake, grunts at him.

Steve fiddles with the drawstring on his pants and isn't quite sure how to ask, but just before they hit the lobby, he blurts out, "Did you and Bucky have a fight?"

Clint grunts in response again before Steve's words seems to really register. Turning to Steve, he squints at him. "Huh?"

The doors ding open and Clint shuffles out, not waiting for a response.

"Bucky," Steve repeats, following Clint. "Did you guys have a fight?"

"Uh, no," Clint says, sounding very confused, pausing halfway through the lobby. "Why--why would we've had a fight?"

"I don't know," Steve shrugs, feeling awkward. "I just, I guess I assumed he wanted to move in here to be closer to you, but you guys haven't spent the night together, and I..." Steve sighs, frustrated, because yes, he should mind his own business, and he's really bad at talking about personal stuff, but this is also about Bucky. And no matter what his dumb heart thinks, Steve happens to have a vested interest in seeing Bucky happy--even if it's with Clint.

"Look, I'm sorry if I'm overstepping my boundaries here, I just would hate to see you guys break up."

Clint's expression slowly changes from bleary squinting to wide-eyed disbelief.

"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable," Steve mutters, feeling uncomfortable enough for the both of them. "I can mind my own business."

Clint rubs a hand over his face and groans, before walking away. "Too early for dumb shit," he complains. He doesn't stop or slow down, just mumbles, "Coffee, donuts, coffee, donuts, futzin' idiots," and keeps shuffling out of the building and down the sidewalk. Steve watches him go and sighs.

Right. Minding his own business, then.

*

Except when he returns to the Tower after his jog, Bucky's waiting for him on the living room couch with a frown on his face.

"I'm guessing you talked to Clint?" Steve asks with a wince.

"Yeah, and what the hell?" Bucky asks, standing up and making a wide gesture with his arms.

"I wasn't trying to meddle in your relationship," Steve says quickly. "I was just worried about you guys, okay? You've seemed happier since you two started--started--the--whatever you're doing!" Steve wishes he could hold back the blush that comes unbidden to his face, as he remembers Sam saying, _Maybe it's just sex?_

"I just want you to be happy, Buck," Steve says, aware of how pathetic and plaintive he sounds but completely unable to stop it.

Bucky's expressions softens before he takes two steps to stand in front of Steve and places his hand on Steve's shoulder, metal fingers digging in until it's almost, but not quite, uncomfortable.

"Okay, pal, here's what's gonna happen. I'm gonna say this once, and you're gonna believe me, okay?"

Steve blinks. "Why wouldn't I believe you?"

Bucky gives him a lopsided grin and says, carefully, "I am not now, nor have I ever been, seeing Clint."

Steve blinks again. He's not sure what his face looks like, but Bucky's grin grows in amusement.

"But," Steve says, confused. "All the time you've been spending together? You stayed the night with him."

Bucky's grin turns a little rueful and he lets go of Steve's shoulder to he can shove both hands into his pockets and hunch his shoulders up a little. "We have a lot in common," he says. "Clint's been sort of helping me deal."

Steve asks, "A lot in common?" but as soon as the words have left his mouth, he realizes. "Loki."

"Granted," Bucky says, "I wasn't around for that whole circus, and it's not quite the same, but--he knows where I'm coming from."

"The other night in the kitchen...?"

"I was a little, uh, apprehensive about sleeping in a new place, and he was sort of talking me through it," Bucky says, in a manner that makes it obvious he's downplaying how apprehensive he really was.

"He got you to go to the range," Steve says dumbly.

Bucky actually rolls his eyes at that. "Come on, Steve, I've probably had so much therapy that they could be writing books on me. Sooner or later I was gonna give in to that request anyway. Clint just happened to be there to make it at the right time. And anyway," Bucky says, pausing to take a deep breath, "it felt--nice."

Steve watches as something like happiness creeps into Bucky's eyes. "Being on the range?"

Bucky considers for a moment. "Using weapons for something else than destruction."

It's a gentle reminder of where Bucky's been and how far he's come, and Steve squirms a little, suddenly ashamed over his own jealousy when in reality his friend had been trying to heal. "I'm sorry," Steve says, face heating again. "I'm really sorry, I thought--"

Bucky thankfully doesn't laugh at him, just smiles sincerely at him. "Nah, it's okay. It's kinda neat. You tryin' to look out for me and all."

"You wanted to move into the Tower," Steve says.

Bucky shrugs. "I like your friends."

Some of the embarrassment seeps out of Steve then, and it's like a knot loosens in his stomach. "They're your friends too, you know," he says quietly, and for a moment Bucky almost looks startled, a short, nervous bark of a laugh escaping him.

"I dunno if I'd go that far, yet," he says, shoulders lowering a little. "Getting there though."

Steve clears his throat, and then, as casually as he can manage, says, "So there's--there's nobody you're, you know, seeing?"

Bucky gets an odd look on his face, and he looks at Steve for several long moments, until Steve starts feeling a little weird.

"No," Bucky finally says "There's nobody."

"Oh, good," Steve says, completely without thinking.

Bucky's eyebrows climb upwards.

Steve wants to sink into the floor and disappear and it takes all of his significant willpower and stubbornness to not look away, but maintain eye contact with Bucky.

"It's good that there's nobody?" Bucky asks, but not like he's angry, just like he's asking for clarification.

Sam's voice, prodding Steve to tell Bucky how he feels, rings in his head, and isn't this a golden opportunity?

Heart thundering in his chest, Steve takes a deep breath and tries to arrange the words in his head into an actual sentence. Something Sam would be proud of. Something like, _Yes, because I would like to be that somebody_ or _Yes, because that means I can take you out on a date, right?_

Instead, what comes out is, "Yeahuh."

Bucky stares.

"Excuse me," Steve says, mortified, and spins on his heel, ignoring Bucky calling his name behind him.

*

Bucky doesn't seem to follow him, but Steve suspects that's only because he'll have to return to their apartment sooner or later. He certainly can't hide out at Sam's floor forever. Or even a little, if Sam has anything to say about it.

"Wow, you are completely useless," Sam tells him, scowl so deep Steve can even hear it in his voice.

"I'm not useless," Steve says, without lifting his head from where he's resting it, face down, on Sam's kitchen table. "I'm Captain America."

"Well, Captain America's useless," Sam says. "Also, I cannot believe you just pulled the Captain America card. For fuck's sake man, have some dignity."

"I genuinely don't think there's much left," Steve sighs.

"Did anyone ever tell you you're fucking overdramatic as hell?" Sam grumbles.

Steve pauses. "Peggy did. All the time."

Sam makes a disgusted sound and stands up, chair scraping across the kitchen floor. "Get the fuck out of my apartment, Rogers."

Steve considers protesting, just to annoy Sam, but then Sam actually literally kicks him in the ass, steel toed boot hitting his right flank from the side of the chair.

"Ow," Steve complains, getting to his feet.

"Go cry about it," Sam says, rolling his eyes. "Super soldier serum, my fucking ass, can't even take a gentle nudge..."

*

Because Steve's life is awesome, he runs into Clint in the elevator again when he gets in to get back to his own floor.

"Hi," Clint says, leaning against the back wall of the car. He looks decidedly more awake now--and very, very amused.

Steve clears his throat and refuses to be embarrassed anymore. He refuses.

"So I was thinking," Clint says, far too casually, as the doors slide shut, "maybe we could do something this weekend? You know, find a fourth, I'll bring Bucky, and it'll be a double date. Right? Bucky tells me you used to _love_ double dating back in the day."

Steve stares at the doors and grits his teeth.

"It can't be too early though," Clint continues, "we like to sleep in, Bucky and me. Me and Bucky. My boyfriend Bucky. Bucky, my main squeeze. Gotta get some snuggles in, ya know? Plus, taking advantage of that morning wood is _always_ \--"

"Thank god," Steve says, as the doors ding open on his floor. Clint's laughter is audible even after the doors close, and it's not until the elevator has moved on that Steve relaxes a little.

"Bucky?" he calls out carefully, wandering into the living room.

"Hey," Bucky says, relaxed and casual, where he's slumped down on the couch, eyes not moving from the TV.

Carefully sitting down next to him, Steve studies Bucky's face. It doesn't seem like he's feigning his casual attitude, at least. Bucky's eyebrows are vaguely pulled together, but it seems more directed at the TV than at Steve.

"This show," Bucky says, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't even know how a show like this exists."

Steve frowns at the TV. "Are you watching _Toddlers and Tiaras_?"

"Who would want to put themselves out there like that?" Bucky asks. "People nowadays seem so greedy for attention, Steve. They're weird as hell."

Steve holds his breath and waits for the other shoe to drop.

"Speaking of weird, what's up with you?"

Steve sighs. There it is.

"I'm just, look, can we please just forget the whole thing?" Steve asks. Bucky gives him a withering glare, and Steve looks away. "Guess not."

Gritting his teeth, Steve turns sideways on the couch to fully face Bucky and prepares himself for more humiliation. "All right," he says, "all right, so, the thing is--"

"You reek," Bucky interrupts, which is not at all what Steve expected.

Perplexed, he stops talking, frowning at Bucky. "What?"

"You didn't shower yet," Bucky clarifies. "After your run. You reek. Go shower."

Steve's first instinct is to protest, because dammit, he was _ready_ , he was here, he was going to finally take Sam's advice and spill his guts to Bucky--but then he nods and moves to get up. "Okay, yeah, I'll shower first and then afterwards, we'll talk--"

"Dress up a little," Bucky says, getting to his feet before Steve has a chance to. "Nice pants. A shirt."

Steve looks up at Bucky. "...what?"

"Dress nice," Bucky repeats. "I'm taking you out."

Steve gets a vague sense of surrealism and looks around to see if he can spot any of the others, about to jump out and laugh at him. When he sees nobody, he looks at Bucky again. "Out--like on a, on a date?"

Bucky stretches and nods, turning off the TV. "Like a date," he confirms, and then before Steve has a chance to really react, he bends down and steals a kiss.

It's short and sweet, and Bucky's lips are warm and dry, but Steve still wishes he'd thought to stand up before, because his legs are suddenly jello and he's not sure he'll ever be able to get up off this couch.

He blinks owlishly when Bucky pulls back and straightens up again, familiar lopsided grin directed at Steve.

"People do still date in the future, right?"

Steve's lips are tingling. "Yeah," he manages. "Yeah, they, uh, we--there's dating."

Bucky doesn't comment on Steve stumbling over his words, and just says, "Be ready in twenty."

"Okay," Steve says, dumbly, "twenty minutes, sure."

Bucky laughs, delighted, and heads towards the kitchen. In the doorway he pauses, and looks back at Steve who's following his every move with wide eyes, still unable to stand up. "Oh," Bucky says, "and we're never double dating with Clint." His grin turns mischievous. "Can't have the two of you fightin' over me, can we?"

Happiness, light and easy, bubbles in Steve's chest then, because he's got friends and he's got Bucky to share this new world with him, he's got a purpose--and he's got Bucky. Steve laughs despite himself. "Clint's pretty good with that bow of his, I don't know if I could take him," Steve jokes, grinning so hard it feels like his face is gonna split open.

Bucky's eyes turn soft and he shakes his head in amusement. "Trust me, pal? Clint never stood a chance."

End.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] I've Been Funny, I've Been Cool With The Lines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3367082) by [wolveheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolveheart/pseuds/wolveheart)
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